


A New Dance

by inkandpencil



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale never learned any other dance but the Gavotte, Dancing, He/Him Pronouns For Aziraphale (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Music, Not because he didn't want to, Which I think we can all agree on, but because Gabriel is an ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:16:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27635318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandpencil/pseuds/inkandpencil
Summary: A wonderful evening, a few months after the failed Apocalypse, sees their conversation venture onto the topic of dancing. Aziraphale had once hoped to learn dances, but had never taken the opportunity until learning the Gavotte. Once this comes to light, Crowley offers to teach him how to Waltz. Aziraphale accepts.So close together, is it any wonder that they finally close the space between them?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	A New Dance

It had been a while since the last time they had nursed a single bottle of wine for the majority of the evening. It was…nice to not get completely drunk off the stuff, to reach that pleasant state of fuzziness where one is still amazingly aware of one's actions without being hindered by one's inhibitions. They had ranged through a variety of topics already, and now had ranged into the topic of dancing.

"I do miss the gavotte," Aziraphale said with a sigh. "It gave me hope that I could pick up other dances."

"Didn't you try to learn anything else?"

Aziraphale shook his head. "Sadly, no. I didn't really have any time." He paused. "Well, I _say_ that, but it was more that….the gavotte was easy to get into, as it was taught at a gentlemen's club - not that kind, stop snickering - and was more of a group dance. Most of the others I wanted to learn required a partner."

"Why not ask one of those gentlemen? Or a lady of the time?" Crowley's curiosity was showing, but the angel didn't mind. It simply proved that the demon was paying attention. However, he shrugged and sipped at his wine.

"It…I wasn't comfortable asking either," he admitted. "What about you?"

"Oh, I did some dancing, sure! Haven't done any, though, since the '60's and '70's. Granted, that wasn't really the type of dancing one needed a partner for, though there were a few."

"Do you remember the days when the court would have such lavish balls?" Aziraphale asked, curious. He remembered the dances from the eras the demon spoke of, but he'd never really been terribly interested in learning them. Crowley chuckled at the redirection of the conversation, but nodded.

"I do. I learned a few of those dances, too, at the time. Made it easier to do some of the temptations I was tasked with if I danced with the targets. It was sometimes difficult to remember which part I was supposed to be dancing, though. I learned to lead and to follow."

"I never learned," Aziraphale admitted softly, observing the wine in his glass as he swirled it gently. From his peripheral vision, he saw his friend's eyebrows rise, his beautiful eyes widening in surprise.

"I thought for sure…"

"Heaven didn't really encourage it," he stated, interrupting Crowley. "In fact, they were pretty staunch on the discouragement of such things. So…" he spread his hands, looking at his friend again. "I never learned. I wasn't sure I even _could_ learn a dance until I learned the gavotte. Some of those courtly dances…that's why I said learning the gavotte gave me hope I could pick them up." He sighed softly before taking another sip. "Still, I suppose it's too late to learn such things. Times have changed, after all."

They sat for a few minutes in silence, both taking the occasional sip while thinking. Aziraphale knew Crowley was thinking of what to say; he could see the tells that his friend made when choosing his words carefully. He almost wanted to preempt anything the other might say, but he also wanted to know what it was, so he kept silent.

"Some of the dances are outdated and no longer danced, yes," Crowley began slowly. "But not all of them. The waltz is still around in several forms, after all." Aziraphale startled; that had been one of the dances he'd wanted to learn! "If you wanted, angel, I would be willing to teach you."

"I..I would like that," Aziraphale admitted softly. After a moment, the gramophone clicked into life, a piece of slow classical music starting up. The angel and demon shared a questioning look, as if asking the other if that had been their doing and both were pleasantly shocked to find it wasn't. As the music strained louder, Crowley stood and approached the angel. He bowed, offering his hand.

"Aziraphale, would you do me the honor of this dance?" Aziraphale couldn't help the blush that he could feel staining his cheeks. Slipping his hand into Crowley's, he allowed the demon to pull him to his feet.

"It would be my pleasure," he responded softly. Gently, Crowley led him into the atrium of his bookshop before turning to face him. A gentle shifting of grip on his hand, the placing of his other hand on Crowley's shoulder, and then the demon was resting his own free hand on the angel's waist. Aziraphale, once Crowley stepped back, stepped forward, pulled by the gentle touch to waist and hand. Then the demon stepped forward, pivoting in the process, and somehow the angel followed.

It wasn't a complicated dance, the one Crowley was leading him in, but Aziraphale couldn't help the small smile that blossomed on his face as he found himself relaxing into the steps. Before long, they were moving in a larger circle around the space, and the angel felt as though he was no longer Earth-bound. He felt light and a little giddy. Crowley was smiling, as well, though it was a small quirk of his lips more than anything. Still, it was enough to steal the angel's breath, even if he didn't really need it.

Aziraphale found himself staring into those beloved golden eyes, letting Crowley lead him in the dance with such ease it was as though they had learned it together instead of the demon teaching him just this evening. The music didn't seem to stop, either, not that the angel really noticed. He was a willing captive of those eyes, of that soft expression that lie therein. Of the gentle hands and arms that held him as they moved around the floor.

Neither noticed that their twirling circle had reduced in size until they were merely taking the steps in place. Nor did they notice that the distance between their bodies had greatly reduced. Their focus was solely on each other. Aziraphale saw the slight shift in Crowley's gaze as it dropped before flicking right back up to his eyes, but was too lost in those golden eyes to understand. 

Then, Crowley leaned in to him, and all Aziraphale was aware of was the sound of the music and the gentle press of warm lips to his own. He felt the soft moan escape him, more than he heard it, as he tilted his head slightly and responded to the kiss. The hand that he'd had on the demon's shoulder shifted, sliding up into that gorgeous red hair. Crowley's hand at his waist slid around to his lower back, pulling him even closer, and their joined hands wound up pinned between them as centuries of repressed feelings came surging to the fore for both of them. Their dance had completely stopped, though the music still surged around them, as they stood in the center of the atrium lost in each other's very presence.

Their lips only parted briefly, but then Crowley's were trailing across Aziraphale's jaw to his ear. The soft noise that was pulled from the angel was answered by one from the demon. They both shivered, but it wasn't from the cold. Tired of resisting the pull between them, Aziraphale tilted his head to the side, giving Crowley easier access to the pale column of his throat. The demon didn't hesitate, trailing kisses and taking full advantage. The sensation pulled a soft moan from the angel; it was followed by a louder moan when the demon nipped at the tender, sensitive skin there.

Aziraphale's fingers curled in the demon's hair tugging gently and pulling a delicious noise out of Crowley. They both shivered, and their lips found each other once more.

"Always wanted to ask you to dance, angel," Crowley whispered against Aziraphale's lips in between kisses. "Never thought I'd ever get to."

"I would have said yes," the angel responded. 

"And you did." Any further conversation was put on pause as they resumed kissing, Crowley's tongue pressing against Aziraphale's lips in a request for entry. A request that was granted without hesitation as the angel's lips parted. The kiss deepened, pulling soft sounds from the both of them. "Ah, Aziraphale," the demon murmured the next time they pulled apart, tone breathy.

"Oh, my darling," was the response. Almost as one, they both breathed "I love you," into the space between them. Golden eyes widened in disbelief as Crowley heard what they'd both said. Aziraphale gave him a surprised, but delighted, smile as his hand slid from the demon's hair to cup his cheek so tenderly. "I do," he murmured. "I have loved you for so very long, I don't think I know what my life was like without it."

Suddenly, Crowley grappled the angel to his chest, holding the blond securely in his embrace and earning a soft sound of surprise in return. 

"Eden," he whispered. Aziraphale gave a soft noise of distress and the demon merely held him tighter. "You were gorgeous when I glimpsed you from afar and so much more approachable-looking than the other Guardian angels. Then, after the humans left, you didn't smite me when I _did_ approach you. I knew it was tenuous for me, at best, but then you had to go and admit to me - a demon! - that you'd given your sword away to the humans. Your kindness has always been what's drawn me to you, angel. You see the good in everyone, even demons."

"I try. But really, darling, it's not all demons. Just you. Only you." He took a deep breath, slipping his own arms around the demon's narrow waist and holding him back just as tightly. "When you approached me on that wall, I wondered what you were planning. But as you spoke, I realized you hadn't planned anything and had honestly approached me with the intent to strike up conversation. It was the first time anyone had done that."

"Heaven didn't deserve you, angel. _She_ may have, but Heaven certainly didn't."

"I think you may be the only one who thinks that," Aziraphale whispered. Crowley released him, only to reach up to gently cup his face in those long-fingered hands. Golden eyes caught and held blue without shying away.

"You are amazing, angel. I've never been fond of the way you were treated by them. To the point I did what I could to thwart them taking you away from Earth, from me."

"Oh, Crowley..." The angel nuzzled into one of those gentle hands framing his face, eyes closing and a small smile curling the corners of his mouth. "I knew. Thank you." He opened his eyes and pinned the demon with his gaze. "You've always treated me with such kindness, even when I didn't deserve it for my own treatment of you. I told myself it was to protect you, but I could have gone about it in a kinder manner. I'm so sorry, my love."

"You know I would never lie to you, Aziraphale," he whispered, thumbs brushing against soft cheeks. "You'd likely know the moment I did, honestly. For my part, I've always known when you meant what you said." Gently, he pressed their foreheads together. "I always knew you didn't mean those things, that you were saying them to protect me. To protect us both."

"I still wish I could have found a kinder way."

"Don't, please. What's done is done. It was proof that you cared, and I held that close to my blackened heart."

"Oh, dear heart, you don't have a blackened heart at all," the angel said, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. "You have the largest, warmest heart of any occult or ethereal being I've ever met." Aziraphale didn't wait for a response of any sort, leaning in to silence any with a kiss. Which was good, considering Crowley had nearly opened his mouth to spout a retort. Instead, his lips parted to invite Aziraphale in. It was an invitation the angel did not refuse.

They stayed that way for a few more moments, lost in the kiss, before Aziraphale gently pulled away. He stepped back from Crowley, who released him, but their entwined hands remained that way. The angel smiled at the demon before turning and gently pulling the redhead over to the stairs, then up to the second floor of the shop. There was an inconspicuous door there, and Aziraphale led Crowley through it, the door closing behind them as the music faded.


End file.
